NAM-BOK THE UNVERACIOUS


"A bidarka, is it not so? Look! a bidarka, and one man who drives
clumsily with a paddle!"

Old Bask-Wah-Wan rose to her knees, trembling with weakness and
eagerness, and gazed out over the sea.

"Nam-Bok was ever clumsy at the paddle," she maundered reminiscently,
shading the sun from her eyes and staring across the silver-spilled
water. "Nam-Bok was ever clumsy. I remember...."

But the women and children laughed loudly, and there was a gentle
mockery in their laughter, and her voice dwindled till her lips moved
without sound.

Koogah lifted his grizzled head from his bone-carving and followed
the path of her eyes. Except when wide yaws took it off its course, a
bidarka was heading in for the beach. Its occupant was paddling with
more strength than dexterity, and made his approach along the zigzag
line of most resistance. Koogah's head dropped to his work again, and
on the ivory tusk between his knees he scratched the dorsal fin of a
fish the like of which never swam in the sea.

"It is doubtless the man from the next village," he said finally,
"come to consult with me about the marking of things on bone. And the